


Office Hours

by WrathOfMacy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cunnilingus, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Oral Sex, Shameless Smut, Some Plot, Squirting, Teacher-Student Relationship, Vaginal Sex, no beta we die like men, ron who?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 13:53:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29859069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WrathOfMacy/pseuds/WrathOfMacy
Summary: Two days before the end of term, Professor Weasley requests Hermione's presence in his office.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Charlie Weasley
Comments: 9
Kudos: 121





	Office Hours

**Author's Note:**

> The title is technically unrelated to the plot, but it's provocative and I couldn't think of anything better. So learn to cope. 
> 
> There is a pretty obvious student-teacher dynamic that will be taking place here, so if you somehow missed that and it squicks you out, please exit the ride to my left. Those who elect to stay, read the tags and proceed with caution. If it eases your mind, the student is nineteen and graduating within the week, and there isn't really any sort of abusive power dynamic at play. 
> 
> My birthday was last week so I'm calling this a belated gift from me to me that you all get to enjoy. Have fun!!

* * *

> _I know what you're doin' here_  
>  _Made your intentions clear_  
>  _Oh you, you terrible thing, you_  
>  _Terrible thing, you_  
>  _Terrible thing, you_  
>  _Beautiful thing._
> 
> **\- AG**

* * *

Hermione was practically vibrating with nerves as she stood outside the office door, shifting her weight back and forth between her feet and twisting one of her curls around her finger. It was a weekend, the last weekend of the school year to be exact, and she was dressed casually in a black skirt that cut just above her knees, and a dark red button down the color of merlot.

Alright, perhaps she was on the nicer side of casual, but it wasn’t without reason. She didn’t know why she had been called there and, far-fetched as it may be, she wanted to be as prepared as possible.

Just in case.

Just in case she hadn’t imagined it.

Just in case he, by some miracle, had been looking at her the same way she had been looking at him.

She was raising her hand to knock when Charlie rounded the corner to her left, rucksack slung over his shoulder. Unlike when he was teaching, practical classes notwithstanding, he had foregone the outer robes and tie in favor of a dark grey pair of trousers with a white oxford that had the top two buttons undone.

His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, allowing for a rare glimpse of the tattoos that wrapped around his forearms. She managed to make out a Norwegian Ridgeback curling around the left one, and several lines of text on the other that disappeared beneath the bunched white fabric.

“Hermione! I’m so sorry, have you been waiting long? Come in, let me just put my things down.”

She stepped back so he could unlock his office door, eyes fixed on the way his fingers wrapped around the little brass key he extracted from his pocket.

“No need to apologize,” she assured him with a smile, “I’d only been there for a minute.”

She stepped in behind him, shutting the door with a click while he discarded his bag on a chair in the corner.

“The meeting with next year’s quidditch team ran a bit long,” he said with a grin, settling into the seat behind his desk and gesturing for her to do the same in the chair across from him. “Ginny kept lecturing the new team captain on the best chaser formations. The Harpies are really in for it next season.”

Hermione smiled, even though Ginny and quidditch were just about the two farthest things from her mind at the moment.

“I admit, I’m curious about why you wanted to see me,” Hermione said, crossing her legs as she settled against the leather chair back. “And on a weekend no less.”

“Of course,” Charlie said, leaning forward and resting his hands on the desk between them. Good Godric, she loved his hands. “We’ve been talking, the staff I mean, and we realized that none of us had written a letter of recommendation for you yet, and it’s certainly the time of year for it. I’ve written a few myself already for our graduating class.”

Hermione tried and failed to school the disappointment from her expression. Work. He wanted to talk to her about work. He looked immediately concerned, brow furrowing as he quickly tried to determine what he’d said wrong.

“I hope I’m not prying, I was just kind of elected to be the one to ask since we’re friends and you’ve helped so much with some of our more adventurous class projects this term.”

“Of course,” Hermione said, pasting a smile on her face, “how could I forget nearly losing a finger to that runespoor last month?”

Charlie laughed lightly under his breath. “Fair enough. Anyway, the long of the short of it is – do you have any specific plans for after school?”

Still desperately trying to keep her eyes focused in a respectable place, she shifted slightly in her seat and answered honestly, “I’m not sure. You know the ministry has offered me several positions already, but I don’t know that that’s what I want to do. A couple years ago I would have accepted without hesitation, but now, especially after this past year, I think I might want to do something a bit more hands-on. Please don’t ever tell anyone I said this, but this course was a little lacking before you took over. This year, however, I’ve found I quite like working with creatures.”

“I was _really_ hoping you would say that,” Charlie admitted with a mischievous grin. He opened a desk drawer to his right and grabbed a small square of stationary with black writing slanted across it. “You’ve done amazingly well with the beasts we’ve worked with, Hermione. I know you’ve said you’re more interested in the research side of things as opposed to what I used to do, so here is the card of a colleague of mine from Romania.”

“I’m not sure I’m looking to leave the UK just yet,” she admitted, accepting the proffered card and examining it.

“Then you’ll be happy to know he’s recently relocated to Wales and he’s looking for an apprentice for a conservation and research project. The money isn’t all that, but you’ll get loads of experience and I happen to know that long-term he’s planning on expanding and opening a sort of preservation for those rarer creatures whose habitats are being infringed upon. I’m not saying it’s an ‘in’ or anything like that, but I mentioned you to him a few weeks ago when we met for a drink and I think you two might really hit it off.”

Hermione arched a brow at his terminology and a blush crept up over his collar.

“Strictly in a professional capacity I mean,” Charlie quickly added. “He’s nearly sixty.”

She let out a little laugh and slipped the card into her pocket beside her wand. It wasn’t exactly the lust-fueled rendezvous she’d had in mind, but an intriguing job opportunity was nothing to turn her nose up at after all.

“Thank you so much Charlie, this sounds fantastic. I’ll send him a letter this weekend.”

“Good,” he said sitting back in his desk chair and resting his elbows on the armrests. “That’s good. So how have you been otherwise?” he asked. The mood shifted from professional to friendly and Hermione was grateful for it. Frankly the whole school year had been a little difficult in that regard. Treating Charlie as someone that she had nothing put platonic student-teacher feelings for was hard enough, but extending that to make sure they didn’t even come off as friendly was even more challenging.

“Not too bad,” she replied, “Harry wrote me last week and said he managed to get a bit of time off for graduation. And you know George agreed to come, which is just fantastic. He’s been getting out of the shop more often lately from what Ron said.”

“Yeah, I think it’s really good for him to be around people.”

There was a small pause while Hermione selected her next words judiciously. “Ron also mentioned he ran into Selena last week in Diagon Alley. He also might have said that she was with someone.”

Charlie dropped his eyes briefly to his hands in his lap before fixing them on her again, one corner of his mouth twisted up. “Yeah, he said the same to me.”

“Are you… I mean, are you okay?”

“Oh, definitely. Things are fine. We’d been over for a while, back before the school year started really. I’m not surprised she’s moved on. I’ve been thinking of doing the same myself lately.”

She felt like someone had punched her in the stomach, which was silly really. Of course he had. Charlie wasn’t just drop dead gorgeous, he was young and accomplished; it wasn’t a surprise that he was likely beating women away with a stick. Why would he ever possibly want a frizzy-haired nineteen-year-old?

“I should… I should probably get going,” she said quickly, getting to her feet while her nose burned and her eyes prickled. “Dinner is in about an hour and I have to go by the dorms and grab a few things.”

“Of course,” Charlie said, once again wearing an expression of polite concern as he stood up from behind his desk. “I’m really proud of you Hermione. After everything that’s happened, seeing you and the others graduate is certainly a cause for celebration.”

Trying her best not to cry, because of course he wouldn’t see her like that, as more than a student, she stood stock still, realizing as he stepped around the desk that he was going to hug her. Stuffing down her emotions, she tried to enjoy it rather than ruminate on the fact that it was probably the only physical contact she would get from him that day. Or any day.

“Thank you for everything this year Charlie,” she said quietly, cheek turned and pressed against his warm, firm chest. He’d grown a bit of a beard in the past few months and the dark copper hair caught on her curls as his chin rested on the top of her head. He smelled like leather and parchment and she fought the urge to bury her face against his shirt.

“You’re welcome. Truly.”

She pulled away, now certain that she was going to cry, and made for the door with her face angled toward the floor.

“Hey, Hermione, wait – are you okay?”

Charlie stepped forward from where they had been standing and placed a hand on her upper arm. The warmth of his fingers through her blouse was enough to send shockwaves up and down her spine.

She definitely was not okay. Frankly, she felt horrendously guilty. He’d invited her there as a friend, to offer her a professional opportunity no less, and here she was fantasizing about him pulling her knickers off with his teeth. She was well and truly a rotten person.

“I’m fine, really,” she said, voice thick and still avoiding eye contact. “End of the year is always emotional, right?”

“Sure… here,” he said, conjuring a handkerchief and handing it to her. She accepted and dabbed at her eyes, thankful she’d elected to wear charmed mascara.

“Have a seat, please. I can’t in good conscience let you leave like this.”

“I just feel so stupid,” she muttered, sitting down and looking at her knees peeking out from beneath the hem of her skirt. She carefully left out why it was she was feeling foolish.

“It’s not stupid at all the be a little concerned about what happens next, but you need to trust me. You’re going to be just fine. _More_ than fine, really.”

Hermione nodded, pulling in a slow breath and willing herself to stop crying. After a moment she stood again, handing back the handkerchief and watching as he dexterously vanished it.

“Come here,” he said, pulling her against his chest once more. This hug was different though. He was angled, leaning against the edge of his desk, so she had to step between his legs, and their heads were more even in height in this arrangement.

That made it easier for her to do what she did next. Just as he released her from the hug, the hand that had been running smooth comforting circles between her shoulder blades dropping to her waist, she leaned forward in a moment of reckless impulsivity and pressed her lips against his. It was a quick kiss, chaste really, but it got the point across.

He instinctively tipped his head a little and their lips molded together in a contact that was so utterly perfect, she wanted to cry all over again. She felt a rush of air against her mouth as he gasped, taken aback. The exchange only lasted a few seconds before he placed his hands firmly on her shoulders and pushed her back.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa… Hermione, this uh… listen, this can’t happen.”

“Right,” she said breathlessly, feeling like an impossible dunce. “I’m so sorry, I just thought…”

“No, no it’s not… I’m not mad, really. It’s okay. We just can’t. It’s not appropriate. I’m your teacher.”

“I mean, term is only two more days,” she reasoned, reaching out and running her fingers lightly over the buttons on his shirt, circling and toying with the bottom one that fell just above his waistband. "I don't even have your class again before graduation."

He wore a pained expression while he watched her hands, as if she were actively torturing him, but he didn’t make any move to push her away again.

“I know,” he finally said in a strained tone, “but you’re still my student. I can get in a lot of trouble.”

“Right,” she said softly. Her hand dropped from the button to the buckle on his trousers and she used it to tug herself forward between his feet again. She tipped her head up to look at him and whispered, “I wouldn’t want to cause any trouble.”

Hermione heard a low groan in his chest and let it fuel her, confidence building. She watched as his eyes raked over her, fixing on the stretch of exposed skin beneath her throat.

“Oh bloody hell,” he finally growled, reaching forward suddenly and catching her waist to pull her body tight against his. This time it was he who kissed her; and what a kiss it was.

He didn’t settle for a soft press of lips as she had. No, he claimed her. His beard tickled her upper lip and chin at first, a sensation that was new to her, but that was quickly forgotten when his tongue slipped between her lips.

In the name of Merlin, he tasted amazing. She pushed forward, mouth fighting for dominance, and drew his bottom lip between her teeth, giving it a sharp bite. His hips jerked forward and his fingers dug almost painfully into her hips.

He shifted backward so he was actually sitting on his desk rather than just leaning and she wasted no time crawling up and into his lap, ass resting on top of his thighs and knees bracketing his hips.

“We shouldn’t,” he protested weakly against her throat, making no move to remove her or put an end to their contact. On the contrary, the arm wrapped around her waist pulled her down firmly to grind against his erection. They were separated only by the thin fabric of her knickers and his trousers, and she decided that that wouldn’t do at all. 

She slipped a hand between them, sitting back on his thighs, and gripped his belt. Tugging so it slipped out of the buckle and exposed the button on his trousers, she popped them open with surprising ease.

“What are you – oh, _fuck_ ,” he moaned, bracing himself on the desk behind them. Hermione reached past his zipper and wrapped her hand around his hard, hot length. He was bigger, bigger than she’d ever touched before, and it sent a warm tingle between her legs that made her shift her hips against him, desperately searching for any amount of friction.

She began to work her hand over him, the soft skin serving in stark contrast to the rigidity beneath.

“Anyone could walk in,” he argued weakly, dropping his head back so his shaggy copper hair fell past the collar of his shirt. One hand on him, she used the other to grab her wand from her pocket and flicked it toward the door, muttering a series of locking charms that would, at the very least, give them a few minutes notice should someone hope to gain entry. She paused and added a silencing charm for good measure before discarding her wand on the desk beside him.

“You feel so good,” she whispered, his cock pulsing ever so slightly beneath her palm.

“Yeah? Can I feel you?”

She paused for a second, uncertain, before nodding and continuing to glide her hand over him.

He sat back further, taking her with him and pushing a stack of books off the desk. His hand gripped her knee, rough and callused from his work, and began to slide slowly up her thigh before it disappeared beneath the bunched fabric of her skirt.

Hermione didn’t feel anything at first, but she gasped and nearly toppled off the desk a second later when he circled a finger over her clit through her knickers. He chuckled low in his throat, a deep vibrating sound that made her shiver, and brought a hand up to wrap in her hair and pull her down so his teeth grazed her ear.

“Is that want you want? You want me to feel how wet you are for me?” She whimpered, now physically incapable of producing words, as she ground her hips almost involuntarily against his hand. “God you’re so beautiful. So fucking beautiful.” He laved his tongue across her throat below her ear. “It’s been so hard these past few weeks, being around you. Working outside together. Seeing you bend and stretch and sweat.”

This went on for several moments before he suddenly pulled her hand off of him and ceased his own torturous contact with her clit.

She was about to protest, ready to offer nearly anything to keep going, when he slid forward again, moving her as well. He stood up and cupped her ass, carrying her around the desk to his chair. Her head hung forward, curls creating a curtain around them both, and she could feel him dropping warm kisses across her collar bone.

He set her on the desk in front of his seat and stood between her parted knees, both of them flushed and breathing heavily. Reaching a hand forward he gripped her jaw firmly and angled her head up, catching her in a sapphire gaze so unbelievably filled with desire she was surprised she didn’t combust on the spot.

“I want you to lay back and keep your legs apart for me, okay?” She nodded shakily, still trying to remember how to breathe. “If you want to stop, if you’re even remotely uncomfortable, you tell me and everything will stop. Do you understand?”

She nodded again and he released his hold on her. Slowly she sank back onto the desk, feeling the cool, smooth grain of the wood on the backs of her thighs while her hair fanned around her.

He flipped her skirt up so she was bare in front of him except for her black knickers.

“These are very pretty,” he hummed, drawing one finger slowly up the inside of her thigh to the edge of the lace and playing it slowly back and forth along the seam. She could barely hear him over the blood rushing through her head. “But I think we’d both like it better if you weren’t wearing them, yeah?”

“Yes,” she breathed, ready to rip the damned things off herself.

Mercifully, a second later he skimmed his hands up the outsides of her hips and hooked his fingers through the sheer black waistband, tugging them down to slip over her low-heeled patent leather pumps. He hesitated for a moment and removed these too, dropping them onto the ground with twin thunks.

Charlie’s eyes raked over her, hungry and hot, but he surprised her and leaned a hand on the desk beside her shoulder, the other looping behind her back, and pulled her into a half-seated position against him.

She automatically wrapped her arms around his neck, and he brought his lips down to slide over hers. Gentler than they had been earlier, but no less heated. He kissed her thoroughly before he pulled back and rested his forehead against hers.

He whispered softly, “I’m going to taste you now, okay?”

Hermione made a sound in her throat, something akin to a squeak, and he laughed again, warm breath washing over her, and lowered her back onto the desk. As if he had all the time in the world, he sat back into his chair and moved it forward so his face was inches from her wet cunt.

She had the urge to press her knees together, never having been viewed quite like this before, so incredibly intimately, but this was Charlie. She trusted him, and she knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that he wouldn’t do anything to make her feel embarrassed. So, she pushed her momentary panic to the back of her mind and instead relished the feeling of his hands on her legs.

Hermione barely had time to register him muttering, “So beautiful,” again under his breath before he dropped his mouth over her and she saw stars. Her back arched off the table and her hands flexed hopelessly at her sides, looking for something, _anything_ to grip.

In the same tantalizing motion that his fingers had made earlier, he circled his tongue around her clit. She nearly bucked her hips up again when she felt one finger press gently at her opening before sliding inside of her, making a curling motion.

She was practically dripping on his desk by then and she couldn’t have possibly cared less about it. He pumped his finger in and out of her, adding a second as she relaxed, melting into the wood beneath her and punctuating each gentle thrust with quiet moans.

Within a few minutes her breathing became panting, coming in shallow, ragged gasps that she had no control over, and she felt her abdomen tightening.

“Charlie,” she whimpered, “I’m going to – please – you’re going to make me –“

He kept his hand moving at the same steady pace, tongue flicking back and forth over her, and didn’t change a thing besides groaning against her. The vibrations were enough to send her careening over the edge.

She came in a warm gush, dripping down his chin and over his hand while every muscle she had tightened like a wire about to snap. She thought she screamed, but she couldn’t be sure.

When she finally floated back down to herself, resumed her existence on this mortal plane, she glanced between her knees to see Charlie. He was sitting back in his chair with droplets of moisture clinging to his beard and a look of pure astonishment on his face.

“I’m so sorry,” she immediately apologized, pushing up onto her elbows and pressing her damp thighs together. “I didn’t mean to – I mean, I’ve never – not with another person –“

She trailed off, wishing more than anything that she could know what he was thinking.

“Hermione,” he said slowly after the longest moment of silence ever, “do not apologize to me. That was the hottest fucking thing I have ever seen in my life.”

“… Really?” she asked uncertainly. She knew what squirting was, knew it was natural, but she’d never been able to relax enough to do it with another person. Never trusted someone enough to get so lost in the sensations that she was able to.

He nodded, staring at her in amazement. A bubble of hysterical laughter escaped her lips and she clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle it. A second later she heard him laugh lightly as well.

Bucking up as much of that famed Gryffindor courage as she could muster, she sat up all the way and leaned forward, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Want to see if I can do it again with you inside of me?”

Charlie made a desperate, choking sound and nodded. He reached into his pocket and extracted his wand, conjuring a rag to wipe across his face and then over the desk. Discarding this, he stepped forward again between her legs.

With only slightly trembling hands, she reached up and began to undo his buttons one by one. His shirt had been untucked earlier, so when she reached the bottom it hung open over his abdomen and she got a look a good look at him. He had a dark thatch of copper hair across the top of his chest, and another that started below his navel and disappeared into his trousers.

While has arms had a number of tattoos, his chest was bare, save for a smattering of freckles across his shoulders. She looked up at him and pressed her palm over his heart before tracing her fingers downward to the waistband of his pants.

His trousers were still unbuckled, but he had tucked himself back into them at some point, the stark outline of his cock evident.

She wrapped her hand around him through the grey fabric and looked up just in time to see his eyes squeeze shut.

“Is that what you want?” he asked, running his hand softly along her cheek. Rather than respond, she turned her head and caught his thumb between her lips, wrapping and sucking.

“Holy shit,” he gasped, eyes shooting open. She slid her tongue across the pad of his finger in rhythm with her hand on his cock and he had to brace himself on the desk to stop his knees from buckling. “Slow down, love, in the name of all that’s – you’re going to make me come.”

Hermione hummed lightly, finding herself rather agreeable to the idea, before giving his finger one last nip and releasing it. She moved her hands to her own blouse, unbuttoning it more quickly than she had his, and shrugging it off to be forgotten on the floor.

Charlie did the same, turning to put his wand on the table behind his desk while he shrugged off the article. It was then that she saw why he didn’t have any tattoos on his chest. Because it would have been impossible for them to outshine the one on his back.

Starting on either side of his spine were two massive black dragon wings, folded and stretching across his shoulder blades, extending nearly down to his waist. He turned back to her, having heard the quiet gasp she hadn’t managed to catch, and grinned. 

She decided two could play and bent an arm behind her back, unhooking her bra and letting that fall to the floor as well. His face fell as he examined her, arms no longer covered by long sleeves. 

While Charlie had tattoos, Hermione had scars. He did too admittedly; mostly burns and bites from work, but nobody had a wound quite like hers. 

It had made her self-conscious at first, something she tucked behind glamours and layers of clothing, but now, over a year later, she’d come to see it as a symbol of strength. A reminder of a time when she could have died, almost died, but didn’t. A bone that had regrown stronger after having broken. The fact that he hadn’t really seen it before was more a product of happenstance as it was usually covered by school robes and outerwear.

Charlie stepped back between her legs and placed a hand gently on the side of her face, dropping the other to brush his fingertips lightly over the raised, white scar tissue between her wrist and elbow. He never took his eyes off of hers though, and in that moment, as he looked at her, the whole world fell away. It was just the two of them, balancing on a razor-thin precipice, infinite and fleeting all at the same time. 

“Beautiful.”

And then he kissed her. _God_ , the way he kissed her.

She pushed him back, not breaking the contact between their lips, and stood, unzipping her skirt in the back and letting it fall.

Charlie removed his hand from her cheek and did the same with his trousers and pants, pushing them down his hips and finally, blessedly, releasing his erection.

He toed off his shoes and stepped out of them, removing his socks as well and leaving the whole affair in a tangled heap on the floor. Her breasts were pressed against his chest, letting the feel of him ward off the chill in the room.

Their kisses grew gradually more heated. What had started as embers, warm and comforting, developed into an inferno, lips and tongues blazing against one another.

“God, I dreamed about this,” she whispered, one of his hands lowering to cup her breast, pinching her nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Oh yeah?” he asked between kisses, “You dreamed about me fucking you?”

“Yes,” she nodded, seeing no reason to mince words now.

“How did I do it?”

Hermione paused and pulled back, looking up into his eyes, and steeled her resolve. “Like this.”

She stepped around the edge of the desk so the short end was in front of her and bent at the waist, hissing as the cool wood made contact with her chest and her cheek when she laid across it. Her ass was in the air, and she kept her legs parted, opened for him.

“Mmm,” he hummed his approval, grabbing his wand from the table and walking around the edge of the desk so he was behind her. He bent and kissed her squarely between her shoulder blades, whispering against her skin, “Can I make one suggestion?”

She nodded, looking over her shoulder at him curiously. He moved his wand in a circular motion and muttered under his breath. On the wall to her left, just beside the door, a mirror appeared. One of those floor-to-ceiling mirrors, like in a ballet studio.

“You spent so much time thinking about this – I wouldn’t want you to miss the show.”

The image was a little jarring if she was honest. Any other time she would probably have claimed Charlie was too attractive for her, but now, spread out on the desk for him, flushed and practically panting, she had no choice but to admit that they made a rather attractive pair.

He must have seen this realization on her face because, looking rather satisfied with himself, he dropped his wand and instead placed a hand on his hard cock, stroking while he looked at her in the mirror.

“Are you on the potion?” he asked, running his palm over her ass.

“Yes,” she barely managed to say as he brought his hand down to circle a finger around her clit again. He briefly dipped into her before laughing and removing it.

“No help needed there.”

He paused for a moment and then reached back between her thighs, wetting his palm with her and coating his shaft. She was practically shaking with anticipation by the time he stepped forward and ran the tip along her entrance.

He paused again, giving her every opportunity to say stop, but when she didn’t, he pushed forward, burying himself in her to the hilt in one fluid motion. She gasped, adjusting to the impossible fullness of it as she stretched around him.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned, holding position in her. Hermione adjusted her hips a little and tightened herself, rolling up and purposely squeezing him. His fingers gripped her hips and she bit back a whimper, only hoping that he left bruises. That she’d have some proof that this had all actually happened.

Charlie pulled back and pushed forward again, harder this time, rocking her against the desk. He then settled into a deliciously torturous rhythm of long, deep strokes.

“I dreamed about you too,” he said to her softly between thrusts. “I thought you were looking at me, but I couldn’t be sure. Oh _fuck,_ you feel good.”

“Charlie,” she whined, watching him fuck her in the mirror, seeing his glistening cock slide in and out of her. He felt amazing, but it wasn’t enough. She could see the edge, feel herself coiling like a spring, but she couldn’t quite get there like this.

As if he could read her mind, he pulled all the way out of her and stepped back. “Flip over, on your back,” he ordered.

She stood and quickly obliged, settling her ass on the edge of the desk and dropping backward. He wasted no time tugging her toward him and burying himself in her again.

“Play with your tits.” Feeling a rush at the commanding edge in his voice, she drew her hands up to play over her nipples, flicking and squeezing under his gaze. “I want to watch you come.”

“Touch me,” she gasped, rolling her hips up, “please touch me.” He grabbed one of her legs and hooked her knee over his elbow, holding her open to him, and reached the other hand down to play over her swollen, tortured clit. “Fuck me, Charlie, fuck me, oh my God, fuck…”

She dissolved into babbling as warmth pooled in her belly and a sheen of sweat shone across her body. She heard his breathing grow strained, felt his hips start to stutter slightly in their rhythm.

“Come for me baby,” he moaned, “Come like a good girl, just like that.”

This time she knew she screamed, toes curling while waves of pleasure wracked her body.

“Oh my fucking - yes, oh _fuck_ yes,” she heard him growl through his teeth, still moving in and out of her while she came, warm and wet all over his cock and his hand.

She was still writhing in pleasure when his own orgasm hit, knocking him forward so his hands were planted on the desk on either side of her.

He muttered every curse word she knew and then some, pumping into her until there was nothing left. She gripped his shoulders and held him there, feeling his tensed muscles tremble a little under her hands.

They were both breathing hard and sweating, but she couldn’t have possibly been more satisfied. It simply wasn’t conceivable.

After a moment he stood up and carefully pulled himself out of her, finding his wand, which had rolled off the desk, and conjuring two towels. He handed one to her to clean herself up while he did the same.

She wasn’t sure what to say, acutely aware of the silence in the office. It had been the best sex of her life by a landslide, and she knew what it had meant to her, what she wanted it to be, but she didn’t know if he felt the same way.

“Hermione?” Charlie finally asked, handing her knickers to her and pulling his own pants back on. She got off the desk on shaking legs and accepted them, running the black lace between her fingers nervously. It wasn’t until she looked up and saw his expression that she realized he was nervous too.

“Yes?” she replied, holding her breath.

“Would you like to get a drink this week?”

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this I have two other smutty one shots on my page currently - one Hermione/Draco and one Hermione/Fred.


End file.
